Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Friday, March 22, 2013

Do me a flavor.

Last, it was the Monday before last, I was asked by my parents to pick up all three new flavors of Lay's potato chips. Trips to four supermarkets yielded only two flavors: Sriracha and Cheesy Garlic Bread. I liked them well enough, though I'd grant the edge to Sriracha. Yesterday, by a weird stroke of luck, my store had a few bags of the third flavor: Chicken and Waffles.

That this flavor would be hardest to find speaks to how goddamn stuffed with retards the world is, which is to say, the Chicken and Waffles chips (the two I forced myself to eat, anyway) tasted like ass.

Which is weird, given how I've come to admire the actual dish of Chicken and Waffles. Every so often, I have it for dinner, but instead of the (apparently) traditional fried chicken, I have the waffle with breaded chicken strips. It's really good and, now, I can't imagine having the meal any other way.

Maybe some flavors just don't translate to other forms of food*. Can you believe that there's actually a popcorn flavor of Jelly Belly jellybeans?! Even if I liked jellybeans, that shit'd gross me out.

* - Except banana. You cannot believe how durable banana is. Now and Laters,'s amazing.



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